Personal Narrative Analysis

A pivotal moment in my life is when I went to go take my driving test. This happened on my birthday, July 12th 2016. I had been practicing with my father and my sister for a couple months, preparing for my first step into adulthood. Up to this point, I had been driving the 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee that my sister and I were sharing. However, the night before my test, it wouldn’t start. We had gotten this car to be our “beater” car, and because it had a hand brake in the middle, which is a requirement for taking the test. But now that the car wasn’t working, I had to use my grandma’s car, which was a car I’ve never driven before. My dad and I left early for my test so I could practice in the car I had never driven before. I was terrified, but determined to pass my first time. My sister had to take her test twice, and usually she was more successful in her endeavors, so this was my chance to prove that I could do at least one thing better than her. Luckily I passed with flying colors, according to my instructor, and to this day I tend to be a designated driver for my friends. I often run errands for my parents and I drive myself to work. This independence and responsibility has helped me grow and has been a critical point in my Big History.

Jerry wakes up in a dissociative state still hungover from the previous night’s drug binge, nullifying the pain with a fluffy, symmetrical line of Peruvian cocaine and a tightly packed bowl of luminescent green, trichome plastered cannabis nug sourced from California out of his Illadelph bong; naturally, Jerry was quite the aficionado in recreational drug use and progressive dependency. As dopamine floods his prefrontal cortex he’s invigorated with a renewed sense of grandiosity; he looks in the mirror, his eyes are sunken in, the pallor of his complexion is ghostly, an apparition of a once revered public figure. He averts his eyes to his many awards and commendations for a brief moment, before the cannabis takes effect. He brushes

My first time driving was on a Saturday morning in an empty school parking lot. My father forced me to drive a large 2006 Chevrolet Tahoe in the lanes between the parking spaces. I was terrified, as it was such a new experience for me. It only lasted fifteen minutes, but I told my parents that I never wanted to drive again. I was convinced that I would never be good at it, no matter

Although the class is tiresome you still study countless hour on driving laws, road sign and, definitions because the reward of passing the paper test is being able to go to the DMV take a picture and getting your permit. Overfilled with joy you hop into the driver's seat and now that you have a permit you can finally drive with mom. Now that you have a permit you are untouchable and your dad is no longer has the right to criticise your driving. This permit created a huge ego within you which, causes little arguments between you and dad on who is correct and who is the better driver, these arguments are usually ended by dad yelling “Stop complaining or I’ll never let you drive again.” While impatiently waiting for six months until being able to take the driving test to getting your licence, so you won’t have to drive with dad and his annoying commits on how you drive, your surprise on how those six months went by so

I lost a job and did not find another one for several months. Once I did and tried to come back I was in 2 different car wrecks with the injuries and pain I was in there was no way I would have been able to complete successfully any of my classes or have them done in a timely fashion the concussion I suffered prevented me from remembering a lot of the time as well as the pain medications in which I was placed on. I tried again once I felt fine enough to go back and then I had health issues which required me to go in for surgery not once but twice. During that time I was not able to complete the classes as well in a timely fashion not only could I not lift my arms above my head but I needed help to assist me to be able to move about and therapy

Driver’s training and education are big events for young adults, but sometimes learning to drive

“I didn’t spend a lot of time being afraid…. Just before and after and during patrol. John answered, as he finished his coffee. “There’s nothing like a cold cup of coffee.”

Although, I enjoyed steady employment my desire to finish school lingered with me. I needed a guided path of straight forward thinking with no distraction also with no life worries of daily living and survival.

When I started, I could not figure out why I failed so harshly. My first time in the driver’s seat was in a vacant parking lot behind Kaynor Tech High School in Waterbury Connecticut with my father. As I gave the car gas and ripped off the clutch, my car as well as our heads were jerked back and forth as I ground the gears. “Ease off the clutch Zachary” my father calmly advised. I tried again, this time i left two black lines behind my car from peeling out. My father proclaimed, “Too much gas now Zachary”. As the vicious cycle continued, I grew agitated. I exclaimed, “I can build a computer from scratch

I am an over-comer. I came into this world 3 and a half months early at 3 pounds 1 ounce, even then I had the determination to fight through adversity and for life. The doctors told my parents I would have physical and mental handicaps; leg braces, back braces, no mobile function, or response capabilities, I proved them wrong. After contracting RSV at 2 years old, and suffering from multiple seizures, doctors told my parents I would have to take asthma and seizure medications, Phenobarbital, for the rest of my life. With my parents help and guidance, I have not had a seizure for over 15 years. More recently, in September 2014, my brother and I were involved in car accident, my injuries were not as bad as my brother's were, but I received a

If you've ever moved you may have felt the way I have. Now this whole moving "thing" didn't seem to bad to me in the beginning, probably due to the fact that I was only 8 years old. Though I didn't exactly know that we were moving out of the county and away from my friends, that was the surprise to me. That reason specifically hit me the hardest. Either way it could have gone worse, but it went pretty well after awhile of settling in, fixing ,and changing my life style.

It was like magic, suddenly all the things that my parents told me to do seemed to sink in and I was able to drive without killing the engine every few seconds. I drove around town for about an hour and a half getting used to the odd feeling of having to push in the clutch. I was able to practice everything I needed to drive on the main roads. Probably the hardest part was getting the car going on a hill. That was extra tricky because I had to get the timing perfect, I had to let go of the brake and get the car moving before gravity rolls the car backwards into the car behind

Driving always fascinated me. When I was little I used to sit on my father’s lap and he would drive up the hill and I would steer. Even though, this was my first time actually operating a vehicle, I believed I could handle it. How hard

One of my reasons that lead me to the decision of transferring from my current institution is the mere fact that I feel limited in my current degree program. The class selections that are tailored specifically for my major are very restrictive. There simply aren’t many classes offered. When it comes to registering for classes I see the same few classes time and time after again. I want to be at an institution as a prestigious as yours that offers a plethora of classes that are related to my major. Although there are specific core classes you have to take, your institution provides vast selections to choose from, unlike my current one.

In the first week after I gave birth to my baby girl Sophia, I was not feeling myself and felt really sad. I had not had any time to myself in a while and I was overwhelmed at the fact that I was a new parent. I was physically exhausted from giving birth and I was upset for feeling ungrateful that God had granted me my child. I felt like I was betraying God because I did not care for my child like I should have. It was very hard to feed or bathe my baby, as I was always feeling so sad. My husband realized what was happening, so he got me the help that I needed. I will never forget the overwhelming sadness and guilt that I felt over those couple weeks.